


Russian Literature

by copperbadge



Series: Stealing Harryverse [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-15
Updated: 2004-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperbadge/pseuds/copperbadge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nine year old Harry confronts the mystery of death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Literature

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for a brief mention of incest (Harry discusses the reputation of Lord Byron) and for discussion of a pet's death. 
> 
> This is a sequel to the alternate-universe fanfic Stealing Harry and will make very little sense without that context.

"Harry! Sirius!"

Remus entered the River House with a slight shiver; passing the threshold always pinpricked his skin, feeling the Fidelius charm at work. He'd asked Sirius about it once, and Sirius had said he didn't feel anything, but then life within the hidden circle of stones surrounding Betwys Beddau was more peculiar for Remus than for Sirius at any rate.

Since coming here, seven months ago, Remus had gotten used to the odd twinge or tickle on the edge of his consciousness, subtle magical variations more detectable to a werewolf than a human. His dreams were remarkably peaceful; no more visions of Sirius starved and ragged from Azkaban, or Peter slicing his own hand off in service of Voldemort. Still, when he went into the town proper he passed three sunken stones that always gave him the creeps, and he had to be careful not to twitch nervously whenever he was near the school. He'd never been inside it -- they'd come to the agreement that Sirus handled school matters and Remus handled issues of feeding and clothing, because if let Sirius would order Indian food four times a week and allow Harry to run about in Remus' cast-off old shirts. 

He tossed his keys on the table near the doorway and closed the door behind him, doing a double-check that his bicycle was locked to the post out front -- not that anyone could see it, but it was habitual by now. The rooms were dark, the sunny kitchen empty; Sirius' boots were missing. He and Harry must have gone down to the river below the back garden. He noted with approval that Harry's cloak and the blanket off the back of the couch were gone too. 

He passed down the hallway towards the back door, checking the bedroom he and Sirius shared -- still peculiar to see one bed, and imagine what the neighbours would think. Except they only had one neighbour and nobody came to the River House anyway, as they couldn't see it unless Severus Snape told them. And Severus Snape was in Scotland, and would not come to see them again before they put Harry on the train to Hogwarts in a year and a half. 

It was nice, though. Nice to see only one bed in a room where two people slept. Or didn't sleep, he added to himself with a small, wicked smile. 

He lingered outside of Harry's room, smiling at the neat bedspread, the general messiness of the rest of the room, the books strewn everywhere and the new posters on the walls -- constellations, dinosaurs, drawings Harry had done. He was improving at a marvelous rate; Remus still had the red-and-white snake he'd drawn, a typical childish marker portrait, but lately Harry's sketches of the wildlife in their garden had taken on a decidedly realistic cast. Birds, hares, the occasional stray cat, fish and frogs, even funny looking plants...

But not snakes.

Harry didn't draw snakes, didn't talk to snakes or seem to notice them. Remus knew they were around -- he'd seen one or two, harmless little garden snakes, and a slightly larger one that was probably the reason they had no troubles with mice -- but as far as Harry was concerned, they didn't exist.

He hefted the courier bag over his shoulder and pushed the back door open, ambling down the path Sirius had worn to the river, the banks just out of view down a slope at the garden's bottom. Harry was there on the blanket, propped up against the rock, Sirius' boots and his own backpack nearby. 

"Wotcha, Harry," Remus said, dropping down next to him and unshouldering his bag. "How goes it then?"

"All right," Harry said, wrinkling his nose and scratching the cast on his right leg. "I itch."

"Good! Shows it's healing."

"You always say that."

"It's always true," Remus replied. Harry held up the drawing he was doing, a rather cartoonish sketch of Padfoot with a fish dangling from his mouth. Remus glanced up and saw Padfoot himself splashing up the river, fishless but perfectly happy, spattered with mud. "Are you cold?"

"Nah," Harry said, turning his face to the afternoon sun. March in Wales was chilly, but there were beginning to be warm days again, and Harry had a good thick cloak. "What'd'ja bring me?"

"Oho! 'Bring me anything', he says," Remus replied, unbuckling the top flap of the courier bag. "Padfoot!" he called, and the enormous dog bounded out of the river, shaking himself on his way up the incline. Just before he reached them he changed, and Sirius dropped onto the unoccupied corner of the blanket, hair wet, wearing only a white shirt and trousers rolled to the knee. 

"Lend us your coat, Remus," he begged, and Remus slipped out of the thick warm tweed, passing it to Sirius, who covered his chest with it and curled so that he faced them both, pillowing his head on Harry's backpack. "Brilliant fishing," he added.

"Bring us dinner?" Remus asked.

"Brilliant, not successful."

"I'm sure you'll catch one someday," Remus grinned.

"What'd'ja bring us?" Sirius asked. Harry giggled. 

"Let's see." Remus dug in the bag. "Wee pencils?" he asked, holding up a handful of small library pencils. Sirius snorted, but Harry took one and started drawing with it idly while he watched Remus dig further. "Overdue notice in the amount of eight pounds, two pence," he continued, passing the bill to Sirius, "and half a chocolate bar from the library vending machine."

"Mine!" Harry claimed it and ate it enthusiastically. 

"Books, Remus! The people must have books," Sirius cried. 

"Next time you go. The mud on the road is unbelievable, and I nearly got run down twice," Remus answered. "You're lucky I brought you anything at all. I did get a rather nice biography of Byron -- "

" -- scandalous. Don't let Harry read it."

"He was in love with his sister," Harry said, not looking up from his drawing.

"Who told you that?" Sirius asked, flabbergasted.

"Boy at school," Harry replied. 

Remus shrugged. "Your job, not mine," he said wickedly to Sirius, drawing out another volume titled _Guards! Guards!_ "New Terry Pratchett paperback... "

"The suspense is killing me," Sirius said, clutching his heart and wrinkling Remus' coat. Remus peered into his bag.

"Well, I have the Mabinogion -- have you read it, Harry?"

Harry scowled at the teasing. "I have and you know it," he sulked.

"All right then. Here's a good one! Poems about dinosaurs."

Harry glanced at it. "That's a kids' book," he said dismissively.

"Who said it was for you? I rather like it." Remus opened it and read aloud. " _Dimetrodon, Dimetrodon, you were here, and now you're gone._ More lovely verse was never spoken. True, too, which is an added bonus."

Harry put down the pencil and paper and tugged at the bag. Remus relented and took out a handful of books. 

"For Harry, we have _The Hobbit_ and _A Wrinkle in Time_ ," Remus announced. "Also a book on art, as per requested, and one on treasure hunting."

"When I get outta my cast, I'm gonna go treasure hunting in the river," Harry announced. The list of things Harry would do when he got out of his cast was an impressive one, and included chasing the neighbour's cat that kept tormenting Padfoot, building a tree fort, and discovering the secret entrance to Narnia he was sure was somewhere nearby. He was also going to excavate for dinosaur bones, which was part of the reason he had the cast in the first place; a misstep while climbing a tree so he could "see like dinosaurs did" put him in a leg cast and Sirius in hysteric parental hyperventilation until the ambulance arrived. 

"Somehow, Harry, I doubt there's any Spanish gold in the river, but I'm sure it'll be fun to look," Remus said. 

"Me next," Sirius demanded, leaning across Harry. Harry tickled his ribs, and he pinned the boy against the rock playfully until Harry cried surrender. 

"For Sirius Black, gourmet of depressive literature, I have _Anna Karenina_ , _Heart of Darkness_ , and a couple of cheap murder mysteries. And the paper," he said, passing across the local rag, irredeemable except for the crossword, which it stole from back copies of The New York Times. 

Sirius accepted the books and gave Remus a grin that made his pulse race before withdrawing back to his side of the blanket. "Librarian recommending things again?" he asked. "I think she fancies you."

"She's got very low standards, then," Remus replied. 

"Eight pounds in late fees and she still lets you take books out. She glowers at me if I even go in."

"Miss Howards fancies Sirius," Harry announced, drawing up his good leg and propping _The Hobbit_ open on it. 

"Does she now?" Remus asked, amused.

"She always makes sure she looks good before he comes to get me," Harry said. "And she does this, you know, when she says hi to him." He put his hand on Remus' arm and threw his head back. "Ahahaha, Mister Black!" he said, in a high voice.

"That's her!" Sirius said, falling over laughing. "Reckon if I asked her to dinner she'd let you skip a grade?" he asked, and Harry grinned at him. 

"Well, while you two plot to commit felonious acts, I'm going to go start dinner," Remus said, kissing Harry on the forehead, even though Harry pulled away and scrubbed at it afterwards. Sirius kissed the boy too as Harry leaned back, and Harry wailed in nine-year-old embarrassment.

"We'll be up in a bit," Sirius promised, settling back against the rock and opening _Anna Karenina_. 

"I'll call you for dinner," Remus replied, rising and passing towards the house. He turned as he crested the incline, and could see two black-haired heads bent over their books in the waning spring light.

***

Sirius was deep in the first chapter of his novel when Harry took a deep breath, the sort small children take before speaking, and often have to hold when they decide whether to speak or not. Harry, apparently more indecisive than most, let out the breath, and then drew it in again.

"Sirius," he said, then exhaled once more.

"Yes?" Sirius asked, sensing that he should probably pretend he was still reading his book.

"Why d'you read sad books?"

Sirius hmphed. "I don't know. I like tragedies. I like seeing how people can be brave and dignified even when they're in trouble."

"Like Aslan in the Narnia books."

"Yes, like Aslan. It was sad, but it was sort of good, wasn't it?" Sirius asked, glancing up at Harry, who shrugged.

"I guess so."

"Something troubling you, pup?"

"Dunno." Harry broke the lead on the little pencil, and picked up the big one he'd been using before. "People die a lot in sad books."

"Sometimes they do."

"Do they become ghosts?"

This would have been much easier if they'd been Muggles. Muggles didn't have ghosts as House chaperones at school. "Sometimes. Usually not."

"What happens if they don't become ghosts?"

"Nobody really knows. Some people think they get reborn into other bodies, some people think there's a place they go after death," Sirius said, rather pleased with himself for being so rational and coherent about this.

"You think snakes go somewhere when they die?" Harry asked in a very small voice. Sirius closed his book and wrapped his arm around Harry's still-thin shoulders. 

"Of course, lad," he murmured, kissing Harry's hair, and this time the boy didn't pull away. He glanced down and saw Harry was drawing a coiled, sinuous figure. "Thinking about Snake?"

"Sorta." Harry curled into his godfather's warmth, slightly. "A snake came and talked to me today."

"Really?"

"Right up on the rock, while you were fishing. She said Hello Boy and I said Hello Snake without even thinking about it." Harry put the drawing pad down. "She was nice. She's got a burrow down by the river."

"Yeah? You have a good talk?"

"Yeah. She didn't know my Snake. Snakes aren't really very bright, sometimes," Harry added. "My Snake was pretty smart, for a snake."

Sirius smoothed Harry's hair, gently. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"S'okay," Harry said. "When I get outta my cast I'm gonna go see her burrow. She said I could if I kept you and Remus from walking on it."

"Promise we won't," Sirius said with a grin. 

"I liked talking to her," Harry continued. "Maybe...after school some day can we go to the pet store? They have snakes there. I could say hi."

"You could," Sirius agreed. "As long as we distract the owner."

"And if one of them was smart, like Snake, could we take him home?" 

Sirius wondered how he'd ever lived without Harry, without the swell of his heart when his boy was near, the cold-sweat terror when he was hurt, the stunning pride when he'd done well. And sometimes, like now, all three at once.

"Of course, Harry," he said. "Whichever one you like."

Harry nodded and gently pulled out of his godfather's embrace, pushing himself up on the rock and reaching for his crutch nearby. "I'd like that," he said, as Sirius gathered the drawing supplies and folded the blanket over his arm. "I hope we're having potatoes for dinner..."

***

Sirius much preferred washing up after Remus cooked to cooking himself; not a little of this was the fact that Remus, being a tidy-minded person, tended to wash as he went, with the result that usually there wasn't much left to clean by the time he got to the sink. So he dutifully rolled up his sleeves and set to work with the distinctly non-magical scrubbing brush and soap while Harry went to his room to study and Remus, as usual, lingered in the kitchen, either reading or doing the crossword. 

It was a comfortable existence for the most part. During the day, Remus worked at the little bookshop in town, cycling in every morning while Sirius walked Harry to school. For a while Sirius had Loafed, something he was extremely good at, until it was time to pick Harry up; eventually he'd taken up studying the town's history and found a job giving once-daily tours of Rhos Y Beddau, the less-than-impressive moor which had once hosted a fair-sized circle of standing stones and now hosted the bog that had swallowed them. 

It was easy enough work once he learned how to operate an automobile, and made him an object of attention, which he somewhat enjoyed. It also meant he was back at Betwys Beddau in time to pick Harry up and take him wandering or, lately, try to occupy him with more sedentary activities. Harry was not, by and large, a sedentary child.

"What's a six letter word for an aging Muggle rock star?" Remus asked, tapping the pen against the newspaper.

"Harry wants a new pet snake," Sirius said, resting his hands on the rim of the sink. 

"That's a lot longer than six letters," Remus said mildly, looking up. "Really more of a band name, that one."

Sirius glared at him over his shoulder.

"Sorry," Remus muttered. "Well, I think that's grand, of course. How do you know?"

"He told me."

"I'd hoped he might, sooner or later. I was..." Remus pursed his lips. "Sorry, I suppose, that he'd stopped."

"I wasn't," Sirius grumbled. "Well, all right. I'm sorry the lad's pet died and all, but it's a very Dark Arts sort of a talent to have, you know."

Remus folded the paper and stood, crossing to lean on the counter near the sink. "You are," he reminded him, "Cohabitating with a Dark Creature, you know."

"You aren't a creature," Sirius answered, drying his hands on the dishtowel. "But you know, Voldemort was a Parselmouth. A lot of Dark wizards have been."

"A lot of Dark wizards have also come from the Black family," Remus said with a smile. "It doesn't mean anything, beyond what it means. Which is that somehow Harry ended a Parselmouth, and would like a new pet snake."

"It worries me."

"He's a bright, cheerful little boy, Sirius. We're raising him right. He's seen what Dark Arts do to a person, even more than you and I have."

Sirius bowed his head, and Remus reached up to brush a lock of hair away from his temple.

"We never saw it coming with Peter," Sirius murmured.

"We didn't want to," Remus corrected, gently.

"Well, I bloody well don't want to see Harry -- "

"Harry won't," Remus said quickly. "We'll make sure of it."

"How?"

"We just will."

Sirius looked pensive. Remus sighed.

"Too much Russian literature, Sirius, I've told you. When he said he wanted another pet, what did you think?"

Sirius shrugged. "I was glad. He'd stopped mourning Snake."

"And have you ever been known to ignore your impulses?" Remus asked with a smile. 

Sirius scowled and muttered, "No."

Remus took his arm and led him gently down the hallway, stopping outside Harry's door. Harry was sitting on a chair, one leg awkwardly tilted off it, bending over his desk to take notes out of a history textbook. They stood there for a moment, watching him, until Remus' fingers slipped down Sirius' sleeve and twined with his. 

"That's your boy, Sirius," he said softly.

Sirius was still a little while longer, and then his thumb brushed the back of Remus' hand. Remus smiled and left him there, watching Harry work until the boy turned and gave him a bright smile. Sirius smiled back, and went to do the rest of the washing up.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Russian Literature](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652063) by [xinasvoice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xinasvoice/pseuds/xinasvoice)




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